


spring letters and spring tears

by tasteslikemiso



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-20
Updated: 2010-07-20
Packaged: 2017-12-13 22:17:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tasteslikemiso/pseuds/tasteslikemiso
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shunsui was a terrible correspondent and an even worse flirt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	spring letters and spring tears

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by Google.com. Title from the August 18, 2005 prompt for [](http://31-days.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://31-days.livejournal.com/)**31_days**.

Nanao's handwriting was precise, measured. Her responses to his romantic overtures were short and to the point. The salutations were formal, the farewells frigid. The paper did not smell like her; she didn't mince words or agonize over matters of propriety. She was simply frustrated that he had chosen to communicate like this when her desk was just across the room.

Shunsui enjoyed the little games they played. His easy, flamboyant scrawl spoke to her of division business and his unrelenting passion. He greeted her, as always, as his Nanao-chan, and parted sorrowfully with love and the promise of his embraces. He enclosed flower petals in the envelopes; he spent a day considering the right words to describe her lovely, exposed neck.

She swept the petals into the waste bin, along with each and every letter after reading them just once to glean what useful information she could (Hinamori had stopped by to return a book while she was out) and ignored the rest. He kept all of his tokens of her affection, and read his favorite parts aloud happily, luxuriating in her concise refusals, the inspiring language of her rejection.

When she had quite enough (really, there were more efficient ways to do her job) she stood up, marched over to his desk and told him so. Her eyes flashed behind her glasses (beautifully, he thought, sighing). Struck suddenly by the attractiveness of her anger, the pretty flush rising hot into her cheeks, he cupped her chin in his hand and told her gently that he'd be done playing games when she was. He heard the slap before he even felt it.


End file.
